


Red

by grilledcheeseandgravityfalls



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, I am so sorry, I have no idea where this came from, bad things also happen to bad characters, even though they don't know what they're doing, how to make yourself sad: a guide, in which bad things happen to good characters, no one is safe and everyone is upset, not really - Freeform, now with updated summary because yikes, suffer, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grilledcheeseandgravityfalls/pseuds/grilledcheeseandgravityfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment is all it takes to change everything, and Adrien can remember them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written anything in years, so please don't hesitate to criticize the shit out of me. That said, please keep any major appendages inside the angst train at all times, and enjoy the descent into hell.

 

Adrien Agreste.

At fourteen, he is restless, miserable, bored.

His father ignores him, preoccupied with running a multi-million dollar corporation.

He has one friend.

She flirts with his looks and inherited wealth, and he pretends that her declarations of love are sincere.

Modeling provides a brief distraction from his private tutor’s dull lessons.

Not enough.

Days roll by, carbon copies of one another.

For a few short moments, he is intrigued when the newspapers begin to whisper about a streak of red on the rooftops, but soon the news is disregarded. It has nothing to do with him.

Then, in the month before his fifteenth birthday, a wisp appears.

Black as pitch, it speaks, promising a destiny full of purpose.

It offers him a chance.

 

* * *

 

 

Chat Noir appears, and Paris is bubbling.

 

* * *

He is reckless and wild, but the night means freedom.

It can’t last, he thinks.

He allows the lust to swallow him anyway, laughing as he dances under the protection of the moon.

The sunlit hours become a countdown. They blend together, unimportant.

Later and later, far past the hour most have gone away to hide beneath their bed sheets, Chat Noir stalks the shadows of his city.

Bags form under his eyes, and more concealer is applied each day.

It can’t last, he thinks, and it doesn’t.

Falling asleep at a photo shoot is the last straw, and his father takes notice. Public school, it is announced, will give him structure.

His reins are pulled back, tightened, and he is furious.

Just as he tasted hope, it is cut off.

Anger builds up and crashes over him like waves as he prowls that night, electing to overlook the slickness of the rain-soaked rooftops. Blind to caution, he is rash, sloppy.

His new reflexes can only do so much, and tonight they fail him.

A careless flick of the wrist, and his baton lands poorly.

Balance slips from his fingers, clattering to the shingles below, and breath is stolen from his lungs.

Chat squeezes his eyes closed as he falls, but not before a flicker of red registers in his periphery.

When concrete and asphalt do not kiss his skull as he had expected, when he comes back to himself, he is met by the support of steady arms and eyes like the untamed sea.

Any previous rage is washed away by quiet shock, and he stares unabashedly, dazed.

“Hello.”

A smile tugs at the girl’s lips, and his life begins.

 

* * *

They are infinite, they are indestructible, they are immortal.

She is dazzling.

Like a coiled snake, she strikes with purpose in every movement, powerful and calculating.

He is a shadow.

Reminiscent of a riptide, dangerous, foaming and turbulent beneath the surface. Unpredictable.

They are a pair.

A team.

Like clockwork, ever in the other’s presence.

She, the stoic guardian, the calm and heavy strength in the eye of the cyclone.

He, a wild card, the crashing thunder to her silently devastating lightning.

The loss of complete nighttime independence is not mourned.

They live now, as parts of a whole, the two of them.

Force and guidance, pushing and pulling, circling, blending, balancing, always in motion.

It is new, and he revels in it.

The days remain a pattern.

School.

Work.

Rooftops.

However, everything has changed, because she has appeared and his world has erupted into color.

Friends.

Laughter.

Companionship.

One day, it occurs to him that the word for this is ‘love’.

 

* * *

 

They are now sixteen, and she is livid.

His arm is broken.

He had wanted to protect her.

There is a feud, fiery and violent as words clash in a maelstrom of pain and desperation.

She cries, and he avoids her for days.

When he finally returns, wearing a heavy cloak of guilt and regret, she opens her arms to him.

She always has.

They talk, wrapped around each other, neither willing to let go of the ease of being together.

In the end, there is no agreement.

They simply give in and hold onto their partner, though she doesn’t hesitate to remind him:

“Being a little selfish won’t kill you, silly Kitty.”

He doesn’t protest, because he is comfortable, she’s petting his hair, and oh, how he has missed her.

* * *

 

Seventeen.

They are both young, drunk on the exhilaration of being alive.

It was bound to happen.

Shy at first, awkward and sloppy, but these obstacles don’t stop them.

The temptation of adventure, exploration, of discovering something intimate and entirely new, draws them in.

He knows now, that her lips are slightly chapped.

He is flying, because she tastes like tea and the sugar cookies she loves so much.

They do not define what this thing between them is.

There’s no need to.

She has given him a dream to share, and silenced the whispers of uncertainty that had protected his heart.

Together they rule over the skyline of their city, a queen and her loyal knight. Eternal. Untouchable.

 

* * *

 

It can’t last, but he has forgotten.

 

* * *

There is no final battle, no ultimate endeavor to save the world.

Just one akuma, and a single act of love.

It is enough to tear apart worlds.

A young boy, consumed by hatred, is flinging spikes at them while Ladybug dodges and leaps.

She is  _ his _ guardian today, on the defense. Stalling, unable to defeat their opponent and protect her partner at the same time.

His back is turned, trusting in her to keep him safe while he guides a woman to safety.

“The civilians’ safety is the top priority,” she told him. “I won’t let anything hit you.”

 

* * *

 

 

She keeps her promise.

 

* * *

 

 

When the pained gasp reaches his ears, it sounds so  _ wrong _ , so horrible.

His Lady stands between him and the akuma.

A stain is spreading across her abdomen, soaking her in the wrong color of red.

For the first time, she wavers.

Falls.

He allows the akuma to flee. It doesn’t matter.

For the first time, he is the calm one, holding her quietly as she panics, shivers, sobs.

What else could he have done? He cannot answer, even years later. There is no one to fix this.

He doesn’t let go, not until her breath has faded away.

For the first time, his Lady is completely still.

People gather in a horrified circle, but no one comes close. They can feel death lingering in the air.

He can’t stand it.

They are crying, whispering, staring.

He runs.

It was supposed to rain that day, he recalls idly, while he chases down the akuma.

 

* * *

For the first time, Cataclysm is used on a human being.

 

* * *

Adrien attends her funeral.

She was right there the whole time, so close, and he never realized.

Thousands arrive to pay tribute.

A sea of black overflows the sidewalks, spilling onto the streets.

The people would stop traffic, if there were any.

Black.

Black.

Black.

It still does not rain.

Adrien wears red.

 

* * *

 

He becomes an adult alone, and the world is dull.

Chat Noir is gone.

No one knows where he disappeared to after that day, but no one looks either.

More than one of Paris’ heroes fell that day, they say.

The attacks continue, but the city adapts.

Tikki and Plagg have moved on, searching for the next pair of unlucky children, bringing sugar-coated offers of a fate that will destroy them.

Adrien Agreste visits Marinette’s grave every day.

As he looks at the sky, the memory of her laughter plagues him.

It was clear and bright, filled with such promise.

He sighs.

“So, my Lady. ‘Being a little selfish won’t kill me,’ huh?”

He closes his eyes.

Whispers.

_ “You were wrong.” _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oops.
> 
> I'm on tumblr at @grilledcheeseandgravityfalls in case you want to come yell at me


End file.
